Pretend
by Soot
Summary: Harry is comforting Thomas.


Title: Pretend

Summary: Harry is comforting Thomas.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Dresden files (characters, plots, etc).

A/N: I don't think there are enough Thomas Raith fanfiction out their. So here's my contribution. Enjoy.

I walked in from my last major battle for the good of man kind. I say this because not only is it true to a degree, it also makes me sound like a good guy in an insane world, when truthfully, I only fought because it was a lose lose situation. I fight and die, negative aspect, or I run away and get my head removed from my shoulders by a psychotically deranged warden by the name of Morgan, again negative aspect. Some days I just couldn't win and wish I just hadn't gotten out of bed, and today was just one of those days.

I arrived back at my apartment in my battered blue beetle which had been replaced with so many other car parts over the years of usage it's had to withstand from me, it almost looked mutated. It unfashionably sported all the colours of the spectrum from replaced parts and consequently made my car stand out a mile. I often get told to scrap the beetle and buy a new model but I always decline, as a wizard technology just doesn't like being around me and the older a piece of technology is the better. I once made a kids' Ipod die and then burst into flames. Poor kid never knew what hit him.

Once inside my apartment I set up the protective wards around my apartment to ward off any unwanted intruders. I didn't much like the idea of black and red court (or white court for that matter) storming into my house with intent on murdering me and leaving Mister and Mouse orphans (like that cat and dog need help looking after themselves – you seen how big they are)? I also like to think of the wards as an early warning system, one that doesn't fail the night you get burgled either.

Without thinking I crash landed on the couch only to get booted back off by my moody half brother 'crashing at my pad' as he refers to it. More like moving in I think but I don't really mind, he's my only family after all. "Ouch!" I commented at him, "I'm not sure which hurt more, my butt hitting the floor or your foot colliding with it." I gave a chuckle and stood back up rubbing my butt in the process; I mean come on, it hurt and I was already in pain. I looked back over to Thomas with a stupid grin on my face to find he had his back to me still lain on the couch. Bad mood, I've seen him drunk, in pain and hungry, but never a bad mood. This was a first for me and I wasn't sure if I was to humour him or lunge for my blasting rod. "Thomas, you alright?" All I got in return was a muffled go away and something else that I couldn't quite understand. Deciding the best was to leave him alone, I did and went for a cold shower (the heater's broke alright) and climbed into bed. I soon drifted off into a deep sleep, and I know this because I was awoken by Thomas shaking me hard. Since he's a vampire he has super human power so you can pretty much guess that I got a good shaking.

"What … what … what do you want Thomas? What time is it? 2:35! You're joking me right? Unless evil vampires or vicious looking demons are trying to break in, tell me in the morning!" I attempted to roll back over and go back to sleep – no such look.

"Harry I need to talk. Please?" Before I could stop him he was sat crossed legged on my bed next to me dressed in sweat pants and a two sizes too big black top, his hair ruffled and dark bags beneath his eyes, and yet he still managing to look amazingly handsome. I envy him sometimes. "Harry?"

"Ok, alright, it can't wait for morning, I get it." I sat up and looked at him. "What?" His eyes were fixed on his hands in his lap showing that he was clearly nervous. Looking closer I noticed that they were also distant. I took an eternal sigh and placed a hand on his shoulder. The physical touch must have triggered the reaction I got because he went from sat crossed legged next to me to having his arms wrapped by neck and his body being pressed up against me, his head buried in my shoulder sobbing. I was too shocked to react immediately, and after a minuet or so I took to just rubbing his back with my hand in a circular motion as an aid to comfort him. Truly I had no idea what I was to do with a cry vampire half brother whose problem I had no idea what it was. So I took the obvious approach. "What's the matter?"

Thomas mumbled something into my shirt which was now saturated with tears meaning I either had to change or sleep with a large damp patch on my chest. I looked down and a pang of guilt made me feel sick for joking so much, I had no idea he was that emotionally hurt. I mean, he was the first vampire I had actually come to like, and he was the most emotional vampire I knew anyway out of all the ones I have had the misfortune to meet. Mentally telling myself off for joking and acting as though I didn't care about him, my arms encircled him bringing him into a tight embrace. I felt his body shudder for some moments before relaxing and leaning heavily against me. Mouse and Mister came to see what all the fuss was about and wound up sitting at the end of my bed looking at me and Thomas. Thomas continued to cry into my shoulder, letting all the emotions that he kept locked away for so long loose. I lent against the head board of my bed and continued to do the little things to comfort him; rub his back, reassuring comments, push stray strands of hair back and so on. It had some effect because he fell quiet after a while to the point I thought he had fallen asleep on me, but a few movement proved that theory wrong.

He looked up at me, his eyes red from crying. "Harry, tell me about your father."

"What?" I had no idea what he was getting at, but I was curious enough to push the subject to find out. "Why do you want to know about my father?"

His eyes were distant again, restraining himself from saying what needed to be said. After thinking for a moment he answered in a small voice, "I don't know anything about him Harry. I wouldn't be a good brother if I didn't know now would I?"

I felt something inside me snap. I thrust him away from me with too much strength which left him on the floor beside the bed. The anger vanished as I jumped out of bed and pulled Thomas off the floor, a look of surprise and shock written across his features. "Thomas I'm so sorry. That was never meant to happen." I stuttered. He slumped heavily against me in my arms as I sat back down on the bed. "Thomas, don't lie to me, what's this about?" I pleaded. "I'm your brother; I'll listen to anything you have to say. Please just tell me what's wrong." If I couldn't get an answer from this I was going to call it a night and just have to settle for my brother sleeping in the same bed as me on this one occasion. Numerous people already suspected we were gay, but with the situation at hand, even if I got an answer the chances were that Thomas was going to be spending the remainder of the night in my bed.

Thomas had his arms wrapped around my waist, his head leaning on my shoulder. "Ok," he said in a small voice that I could barely hear. "I saw a picture of you and your dad today and you both look so happy, like a real father and son. I don't have anything like that. I just have memories of my father abusing me, my fear of him hanging like a dark cloud over my every conscious thought. He even stuck fear into me in my dreams. There was no escaping him, he penetrated every thing I did, every part of my life and left coldness where a true father would have left love." He was going to continue but I had to stop him. He saw a picture of me and my father. Where? I wasn't aware there was one.

"Thomas, where did you see this photo?" He reached inside a pocket of his sweat pants and drew it out. It was a photograph of one of my father's last shows where I assisted him. I took it from his hand and looked at it more carefully. Realisation flooded through me that we were being spied on that day. It showed me and my father the first time I assisted him on stage during one of his magic acts. We were stood together, poising after a successful trick. I looked from the photo back to Thomas again, unanswered questions filling my mind. "Thomas, where did you get this?"

I felt his body shudder as he tried to gain some composure before answering. "I was sent it. I don't know who from. It just arrived in an envelope with my name on it."

"Ok." I replied as casually as possible in the given situation. Heck, I'm not the most tactful guy on the block, just as Murphy.

"Harry, can you tell me a bit about him … your dad?" Thomas asked his voice slow and low.

"Well…I didn't fear for anything while I was around him. He vowed to protect me from anything that threatened to hurt me while there was still breath in his body and that I could become anything I wanted to be. Even though he never earned much it didn't matter because he was my only family and he taught me the most fundamental lessons in life. He…" I was cut off my Thomas waving a hand in front of my face.

"I didn't mean like that Harry. I mean tell me of a time you can remember, a fond memory of him that you still have and cherish." Thomas shuffled briefly against me and released me from his embrace, leaving my arm around his shoulders as he leaned against me.

"Thomas, why do you want to know that?"

"So I can pretend Harry! Pretend I had a father who loved me instead of throwing me out to the dogs!" He spat before falling quiet again. "Sorry Harry." It was in this instance that I realised how good I had it. Even though my dad had died when I was six, I still had a caring father for those six years. Thomas, even though his father was still alive, was always dead to him. "I wish he would just say that he loved me just once." His voice was tiny. "A pat on the back or a well done son, anything like that. Instead, violence and isolation." He gulped as memories that he would rather have forgotten flooded back to the fore front of his mind.

My heart went out to him. "Thomas, I had no idea. I knew your relationship with your father was rocky, but I never knew that happened." God I was a jack arse and I sure felt it now.

A small hurt smile lit his face up for a moment before falling cloudy again."I never told anyone. All my other siblings went through it too, so it was nothing new to them and they would just dismiss it."

"What do you want to know then? I don't have many memories I can share of him really." I felt that I owed him some form of comfort.

He looked back up to my face again and sighed heavily. "Anything. Any memory of an event that made you feel loved by him." He stood up and shook his head, his back to me. "This is stupid. Why did I even bother you? Forget about it, I'll leave you to go back to sleep. Waking you up was selfish and inconsiderate of me." He started to walk out of the room. I leapt up from my bed and pursued him the short distance across my bed room.

"Thomas! Thomas stop! Thomas, what you want isn't stupid!" I stopped as he turned around and looked at me.

"Really? You don't think it's stupid?" He looked saddened and plain. The shine in his eyes had gone, and what ever gave him the glamorous sexy appeal had also left leaving him looking like … well, ordinary. He looked like the Thomas I saw being tempted by his hunger when I soul gazed with him. He stood and looked at me with his head tilted to one side slightly. "Never mind, forget about it."

"No, no Thomas!" I wrapped my arms around him and prevented him from moving away. "I'll tell you." Thomas pulled away slightly and looked at my face, avoiding my eyes as he did so.

"Ok." I lead him back to where we were originally sat. He rested his head on my shoulders as he listened to me talk, his hand tightly gripping mine.

"Well, my fondest memory of my father would be the moment captured in that picture. He was performing for a large audience and it was my first time being his assistant. We had done all the tricks popularly known like sawing a person in half and so on. Funnily enough he sawed me in half." I let out a brief chuckle. I noticed Thomas had his eyes closed, a small smile graced and lit up his features. It was obvious to me that he was imagining himself in my place. "When we had done all of the popular known tricks, we moved on to my fathers own creations. They were something else. He always worked on them, including me in them when ever he could. We had many good laughs together. His laugh was infectious and well spirited. It made me happy just to hear it." I felt Thomas give a satisfied sigh. "The audience loved us, the applauds went on for ages and everyone wanted to talk to us after the show. My father was so proud me, always commenting on how good I was to people who asked about me. I was smothered in praise that day by everyone. I got pattered on the head by rich ladies, shock hands with wealthy gentlemen; I laughed at jokes with young children and teenage boys and was occasionally kissed by the odd teenage girl. My father always said I was his secret weapon in these shows … that I made them what they were. I will never forget that night." I stopped talking and gentally nudged Thomas after a few moments of silence.

"Thanks Harry." He mumbled.

"Thomas, if it's any consolation, if my dad was still alive, he would have taken you in as his own son."

"Really?" Thomas yawned, his eyes closing as he leaned heavily on me, sleep taking over, but curiosity still heavily laced his voice.

"Yeah, really." I answered quietly. I sat silently listening to Thomas' breathing as he leaned against my chest. His breathing slowed as sleep took over. I lightly brushed the stray strands of hair out of his face as I started to move. Since we were already sat on my bed, I laid Thomas down on it from our seating position, placing his head on my pillow and covering his body with the thick quilt. He looked peaceful as I left the room. I turned back to look at him once more when I reached the door just to make sure he was alright. Satisfied, I moved out of the room and proceeded to collapse on the sofa. I could see why Thomas was reluctant to move out, the sofa was comfy.

As I laid down I could feel all my aches and pains from the previous days battle setting back in again. I was so preoccupied with Thomas I forgot how much pain and agony I was actually in, and the story that I told him I hadn't thought of in years. I never lied; it was a very fond memory for me, one that I did hold dear to me. I smiled to think that Thomas now had one of my memories to hold close as though it was his own, to picture himself being the one receiving the praise and love of others, especially for him to pretend he had a father who loved him instead of abusing him. My smile broadened to think I had helped him. Much worth sleeping on the couch I should say. You never know, he might help me out one day, and in my life I'm always in need of a favour at one time or another. I'm not counting on him standing in the way of a demon for me though. I'll have to wait and see.


End file.
